


Live It Up

by scy



Category: Highlander: The Series/Torchwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scy/pseuds/scy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corey been chased before, but this time he doesn't know if he can outrun them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live It Up

**Author's Note:**

> I should just cite lattara as an enabler. I mention ideas that I am contemplating, she encourages, and pretty soon things like this happen and she is off looking pleased with herself. By now she should have some sort of bragging rights.

There were signs in such circumstances, and having been the one chasing someone before, Corey recognized them. He had his ways of handling it, but he wasn't in the forest anymore, and even heading into crowded cities didn't throw this guy off.

There weren't many agencies that, in spite of their press claiming they invented persistence, truly showed that determination and pursued a suspect over two continents for eight months and gave no indication of being put off by any of his misdirection.

Corey had changed identities and started a new life seven times, only to find someone looking for him soon afterwards. At first, he thought it might Matthew McCormick, once and always an enforcer of the law, might be the one chasing him.

The man's concept of acceptable diversion was much narrower than Corey's and he'd raised objections before, most memorably sentencing him to his first death. But McCormick was Corey's mentor as well as a strict upholder of the law, and even when he felt that Corey was straying too close to an immovable line, he knocked Corey down so that he could lecture him all the better.

This wasn't like Matthew and if it was him trying to make Corey back off, by now he'd likely have cornered his student and explained his stance. They'd have an argument; Corey would talk McCormick around to his position, keeping his sword close and feet on holy ground. He didn't think that his teacher would actually attack him to make a point, but he'd only taken Corey into his care after he'd been punished for the crime he committed. It had been a harsh lesson, but when Corey revived, he found that death, as he'd understood it, couldn't touch and keep him anymore.

McCormick had a lot of rules and his principles were a frustrating restraint on many of Corey's schemes, but he didn't condemn a man without cause and evidence. Given his years of experience and dealings with McCormick, Corey was sure that he'd sooner be direct about his views, not hold back and hunt Corey, drawing it out and staying hidden. The conclusion wasn't a comfort; that meant a complete stranger was tracking Corey without signs of giving up. Since he preferred to keep his business fast paced and brief, Corey didn't like forming an acquaintance when the first overture was so impersonal.

He had contacts; people who owed him favors, or who knew he had enough damaging information about them for them to know that the smartest move was to be very helpful when he asked. When none of them could be sure who wanted to get him where he couldn't avoid a conversation, Corey allowed himself to worry more fully than he had in a long while. He stashed what goods he thought might somehow be traced to him and made another switch, not hoping that it would hold for long as he hopped on a train.

Eventually, the guy caught up to him, partly because Corey was tired of trying to outrun him, and also because he was just good enough to be waiting for Corey in his latest rented room.

Corey knew that he wasn't alone from the instant he opened the door, and he guessed who it was when they rose from where they'd been sitting in the only chair.

"Well, here you are, finally," Corey said. "What do you want from me?" He didn't usually carry a sword on him; they were bulky, noticeable, and didn't help much when he was avoiding more fights than he got into, but he did have a knife in his boot and confidence in knowing that the room was only a couple floors up and if he jumped out the window, it was dark enough that any witnesses couldn't reliably report what they'd seen.

The man smiled, hands still in his coat pockets, and Corey thought that his clothes made him look more out of a particular time than a nostalgia buff.

"Captain Jack Harkness," the man said, not offering to shake hands. "Mr. Raines, you have a reputation for acquiring objects and funds that do not belong to you," he said. "Recently you stole an object that has a particular significance and I've come to retrieve it."

"I'm a thief, stealing is part of the job," Corey said.

"A job is something I'm not sure you've ever actually held; what you do are called 'heists,' but you are rather good at pulling them off," Harkness said.

"More than good," Corey said.

"Alright, exceptional," Harkness said.

"Thank you."

"And that doesn't touch on how, even when the law catches up with you, being put to death isn't enough to keep you in a cell."

Corey felt his hands twitch.

"Yes, we know about that," Harkness said.

"Who does?" Corey asked.

"The organization I represent."

"And who are they, then, that they can claim to know all about me?" Corey said.

"Oh, you think you're getting on the inside track right off?" Harkness shook his head. "You've gotten used to that, I guess, what with having so much time on your hands." He smiled knowingly again, and Corey's uneasiness grew.

"Are you part of the Watchers?" Corey asked.

"No, they're a less covert organization," Harkness said dismissively. "They've gotten kind of sloppy too, internal politics have been interfering with fulfilling the letter of their code. Of course every institution has its ups and downs, but given the spiral they've been on for the last few years, I'd guess that they're not recovering their covert ops credentials any time soon."

Corey stared at him in confusion as he talked around in circles. "You don't believe in giving explanations?"

"I see no harm in telling you enough to make you a liability," Harkness said.

"You'll handle whatever my reaction is and clean up any mess too, thanks so much," Corey said. He figured that he could still take his first chance and make an escape, but his curiosity wouldn't let him leave without learning a little that might help him later, and Harkness was blocking his first choice of exits anyway. "Tell me then."

"The Torchwood Institute was founded in 1879 by Queen Victoria to defend this planet from extraterrestrial threats, and in addition to use any acquisitions for the agency." Harkness said.

"Like stuff that's not from Earth, alien artifacts," Corey said.

"Yes." Harkness sounded as if he believed what he was telling Corey, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was enjoying Corey's disbelief on more than a professional level.

"And you're dressed like a member of the RAF for personal reasons, or is Torchwood a branch of the British government too?" Corey asked, trying to recover some ground.

"We're not an extension of anyone," Harkness said. "It doesn't matter who they are or what they claim about good intentions; any alien technology acquired by Torchwood remains secured and is used only by the staff for purposes of research and defense."

"And you would be, who again?" Corey asked.

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"What kind of captain?"

Harkness smiled. "I've been in several branches of the service."

"Are any of them looking for an absent officer?"

"You're thinking that I'm avoiding responsibility?" Harkness asked. The idea seemed funny to him. "It's actually the reverse, I'm looking out for this world." He sighed and got down to business. "The device you stole isn't dangerous most of the time, but if mishandled, it leaves psychic tears in the minds of anyone within range," Harkness said.

"How does it do that?" Corey asked. Never mind the concept of anyone having the sort of talents that Harkness was discussing, but for there to be technology that controlled such things was an even more intriguing revelation.

"It enhances any empathic or telepathic ability they might have, and the damage is due to its strength and how long it's used for.," Harkness said.

"A lot of people would find that useful," Corey said. He dealt in many varieties of merchandise, but he didn't set out to cause anyone harm; he'd given back some of what he took, and to those who needed it. Selling a thing like this would be beyond his boundaries of maybe taking the good with the bad and hoping it evened out later, but he wanted to know how far Harkness would go, or if he was just posing to make Corey hand over the piece.

"And they'd use it to harm others. Anyone who'd consider selling it or using the device in a crime would have to be contained and dealt with."

"In what way?" Corey asked.

Harkness stepped closer. "We'd persuade them not to try something of that nature again."

"How personal would this persuasion be?"

"Oh, I'm always willing to conduct negotiations, even under intimate conditions," Harkness said.

"Really." Corey met Harkness halfway and reached out to fiddle with the edge of his collar. "Do I qualify for such consideration?" He smiled playfully at the other man to let him know that he had no intention of selling to the highest bidder, but that he wasn't just going to hand over what he'd gone to the trouble of stealing.

"If anything, I'd say that you absolutely require such an approach."

Corey was a good judge of human character and had determined during Harkness' explanation that the man was dangerous, but didn't have to be a threat to Corey, if he was willing to bargain. Keeping himself undamaged was always a greater priority than making a quick buck, and in this instance, he was willing to settle for making a friend, one who might provide useful information in the future.

Harkness regarded Corey thoughtfully for a few seconds longer, and then he wiggled his fingers at the trappings of Corey's disguise. "Let's dispense with the getup."

"You too," Corey said, tossing hat and wig away and throwing his coat after them.

Harkness laughed and shed his great coat and then the RAF jacket underneath. He was wearing period dress, including suspenders, and Corey found it charming.

"If we're daring honesty, even a little, tell me why you look like an off-duty pilot from World War II."

"Would you believe me if I told you I had been?" Harkness asked.

Corey eyed him, checking for a sword, but although he caught a glimpse of a pistol at the man's waistband, Harkness wasn't armed in the tradition of Immortals, even if he did know a good deal about them. "I'd call you on it, unless you're going to tell me that you've participated in the Game."

"I'm not like you in that sense," Harkness said, "but I've seen more than most."

Still skeptical, Corey waited, but Harkness didn't back down as he held Corey's gaze and pulled his shirt off.

"Your kind see centuries, if you're lucky."

"And you? What makes you so well traveled?"

"Something happened to me a few years back and the result is longevity and an extended stay here."

Corey picked up on the way Harkness said that; the same as when he'd talked about defending the planet, as if it was one of many he'd known.

He was stripped down to shirt and bare skin as Corey ran his hands over Harkness' chest, and then hooked two fingers in the elastic of the man's boxers to tug him closer.

"So you're a tourist," Corey said.

Harkness snorted. "You're fishing, and I only bite on request."

"Come on then," Corey invited. "I don't promise not to take advantage of the chance to interrogate you, but I'll let you return the favor."

Harkness gave Corey a smile that only a fellow conman would understand as approving. "I wouldn't accept anything less."

They wrestled over toe the bed, and Harkness laughed as Corey straddled him, on top and using his position to declare his intentions.

Harkness, though he might be spook now, knew the ins and outs of a con, it was how he'd followed Corey without being diverted, and Corey was using terms that the other man could interpret.

Corey wouldn't slide into a corner for anyone, and just because he'd be better off giving up the alien object, he wouldn't make it easy, and he'd have a good time to make the exchange worthwhile.

Harkness proved that he wasn't one to accept only what was offered and flipped Corey over st when he thought he'd gotten the upper hand. He kissed like he knew what Corey liked and it turned out he did and Corey saw to it that he returned the consideration.

When they lay back on the bed, sweat sticking their skin together, Corey glanced over at Harkness. "You could have grabbed your machine and taken me out at the same time, what stopped you?"

"You're right, I could have, and it's part of regulations, but ultimately, remains my decision, and I chose not to," Harkness said.

"All based on how big of a threat I am, right?"

Harkness' teeth showed for an instant, but the expression wasn't friendly. "You were never as much of a danger as you'd like to think."

Rolling off the bed, Harkness grabbed his clothes, and Corey took that as a sign to pull the case out of his pocket and handed it over.

Harkness flipped it open and surveyed the small circlet of metal inside, shutting it he dropped the box into his coat pocket.

"If all of this is so old hat for you, then misuse of supposed alien material has to be a problem."

"Or I could just have experience in this area," Harkness said, buttoning up his shirt.

Corey smiled. "And I'm curious about that too, but you could have a real nasty situation next time. I could pick up another one of your toys and you might not be able to find me so easily."

"I don't think so."

"How do you know I won't cause trouble?"

"We've met before," Harkness said. "You explained most of your history to me, even if you don't remember. I thought I'd give you another chance."

Corey stared at him blankly, he had a near perfect memory, and Harkness wasn't someone he could imagine forgetting.

"It'll come back to you," Harkness said. He kissed Corey on the cheek and then thoroughly, flicking his tongue against Corey's teeth. "See you around, Mr. Raines."

Then Captain Jack Harkness was gone, making an exit that Corey guessed was part of his trademark.

Corey was holding up a bank in Fort Lauderdale when he got the first flash of meeting Captain Jack the first time, and he turned around and gave the money to the closest orphanage so that he could catch a plane to Cardiff. After he punched Jack he'd see if the man was interested in taking on a thief in a preventative capacity at cost with benefits.


End file.
